


two weeks later

by ravens_rising



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravens_rising/pseuds/ravens_rising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But only silence answers him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	two weeks later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theoldgods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoldgods/gifts).



> disclaimer: i haven't written fic in years, so this is probably kind of a mess. i apologize for everything. hopefully you enjoy it anyway!!
> 
> also i am american and very much not british. let me know if i did anything too egregious.

“I have the information.” Harry’s voice comes over the speakers. He sounds satisfied, even though Merlin can hear faint banging and shouting in the background.

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “And you did this… without being detected?” He inquires dryly.

“Well,” Harry says, “I did it without being _caught_.” There’s a clatter that sounds like Harry is climbing something. Merlin can hear his breathing speeding up.

“See that it stays that way,” Merlin orders, “Your plane is still in location, lose your pursuers and get to it if you can.”

“Understood,” Harry says crisply, instead of pointing out that he knows that already, which is how Merlin knows he's in trouble, so he keeps quiet and doesn't distract him. He waits patiently and listens to the sound of gunfire and running and Harry muttering darkly under his breath. Something heavy and sick curls low in his stomach, as it always does.

After about ten minutes, according the mission clock, the sounds of fighting have gotten more muffled, and Harry addresses him directly again, “I think I lost them.”

“Your location?”

“The manufacturing area toward the west,” He answers, “I’ll try to – what -" There’s a heavy thump, and then a snapping sound, and Harry’s voice disappears, the sound from his glasses cutting off with a burst of static, then silence.

“Galahad,” Merlin lunges forward in his chair, speaking urgently into the microphone, “Galahad, come in.”

But only silence answers him. Nimue, one of the handlers under him, slides her chair over to his desk and stares at him with startled eyes.

Merlin’s hands curl briefly into fists on the desk, his nails digging into his palms. Then, he squares his shoulders before reaching out and pressing a button on the panel in front of him. “Excalibur,” He addresses the pilot waiting for Galahad’s return.

“Sir?”

“Galahad’s glasses have been damaged and headquarters is unaware of his status. Last known location is to the west of the base in the manufacturing district, and he was likely ambushed by hostiles.”

“Shit.” Excalibur swears quietly under his breath. None of them want to lose anyone affiliated with Kingsman right now, let alone a full agent.  It had only been two weeks- Merlin cuts that thought off. “Understood, sir. Do you want me to investigate?”

“Negative. Wait the standard amount of time for him to get back in touch before risking your own position.”

After Excalibur reluctantly agrees, Merlin switches back over to Galahad’s channel, even though he knows there’s nothing to hear. He takes a slow breath, in and out. He needs to stay at his desk, waiting to see if Harry will contact them through other means, but he also needs. He needs to move.  “Nimue, take the desk for now. I need to report to Arthur.”

“Of course, sir.” She agrees, not mentioning that he could as easily contact from Arthur from his desk the same way he had contacted Excalibur.

He gets up mechanically, Nimue easily taking his place. He leaves the room, the doors swishing closed behind him. There is no one in the hallways, and he takes a moment to breath, staring blankly at the shiny gray walls. Then, abruptly, he slams the side of his fist against the wall. Pain shoots up his arm, but he stays there, and leans his head against the wall.

After a moment, he straightens up, dropping his fist down to his side. He turns and walks toward the direction of Arthur’s office, the pain in his hand a relieving distraction from his thought. 

-

It is several hours later, the meeting with Arthur and several cups of coffee long come and gone, when they finally get the call from Excalibur that Harry has shown up at the meeting place, with a stab wound in his arm and several broken ribs, but alive.

-

Merlin is waiting when the plane arrives in London. Harry smiles at him tiredly as he walks gingerly down the stairs, but Merlin doesn’t smile back. Harry looks exhausted, his eyes glassy, and he is moving gingerly.

“Thank you, Excalibur.” Merlin addresses the man coming down behind Harry, “I can take him from here.”

Excalibur is certified as a field medic, but they are always required to see Medical before being dismissed. Harry follows him to Medical and Merlin stays as they recheck Excalibur’s evaluation and the wrappings on his ribs. When they've banned him from field duty for several weeks but cleared him to leave Medical, Merlin informs Harry that he’s taking him home. He knows the missing time must have been bad when he doesn’t protest that a driver could take him instead.

-

They don't speak as Merlin drives them to Harry's house. Harry just silently stares out the window at snow dusted London streets. When they get inside Harry’s house, Merlin helps Harry take his jacket off. Harry winces during the procedure and finally speaks, “I could really use a glass of whisky right now.”

“Not with those painkillers,” Merlin responds, as Harry likely knew he would, “I can make you some tea.”

“That’ll do.” Harry uses his good arm to run a hand through his hair. “I was out in the cold for hours today, anything warm would be heavenly.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get hypothermia.” Merlin snaps, and he knows he sounds more annoyed than he should for this part of their usual banter. He moves away, walking through the house toward Harry's kitchen. Harry trails behind him.

“It wasn’t quite _that_ cold.” Harry's protest is mild, but he obeys when Merlin orders him to sit.

“The temperature would not have helped matters if you’d been bleeding out, unconscious in an alley somewhere.”  He says tightly, moving past him toward the counter. He retrieves the kettle and fills it with water, and then sets it to boil on the stove. He does not turn to look at Harry.  

 “You are angry.” Harry observes neutrally. “You’ve seen me hurt much worse than this many other times.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Merlin responds stiffly, but he risks a glace at the table.

Harry is watching him, lips pressed tight together. After a moment, sounding tired, he just says, “I am aware of that.”

Merlin lets the silence hang, and returns to staring at the kettle. He doesn’t look at Harry when the tea is done; he brings it to the table and carefully pours the water into one cup with a teabag. He isn't in the mood for tea himself. 

“Thank you.” Harry says quietly, and raises the cup to his lips with his good arm.

Merlin waits until Harry has taken a sip and lowered the cup back to the table before saying, “I feel as responsible for Lee’s death as you do.”

Harry flinches slightly at the reminded, his shoulders drawing back and eyes tightening. He opens his mouth once before saying, “There is a lot of death in this business. Sometimes it hits you. I know how it is.”

"We've both been in Kingsman for a very long time. We've seen someone in most of the other posts die. It could have been my first death for Galahad when he saved you two weeks ago, Harry. Or today." 

Harry looks up at him, his eyes unreadable. "It will happen eventually, Merlin.  Sooner rather than later, in all likelihood. And you'll be all right."

"I always thought so," Merlin agrees, "I have seen a lot of friends die since I joined Kingsman. Too many.” Merlin may not be a field agent, but he is fully capable of his fair share of risky gambles. He reaches out and runs a thumb over the bruise on Harry’s cheekbone. Harry sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. “But I begin to suspect that it will be different with you."

It’s hard to shock Harry Hart at this point in his life, but this seems to have done it. His gaze flickers toward the hand touching his face, then back to Merlin’s eyes, rapid calculations clearly running in his head. It’s the same expression Merlin has seen in mission briefings, and he always imagined it was the same during the missions themselves when things went sideways. Merlin waits.

Then, Harry reaches up and gently touches Merlin’s hand that still rests on his cheek. “Merlin,” He says, a slow, disbelieving smile starting to pull at his lips. Taking that as answer enough, Merlin doesn’t even try to stop himself from leaning over and kissing him. Harry opens his mouth immediately and kisses him back eagerly.

After a moment they both pull away, breathing hard, and Harry is still smiling that same smile. Merlin desperately wants to kiss him again, or do anything to keep that smile on his face. “Stay with me tonight,” Harry says, “I’m still cold.”

Merlin moves back slightly and looks pointedly down at the cup of hot tea. “Drink your tea, then.” He finally sits down at the table, reluctantly dropping his hand from Harry’s face. “Since I went through the trouble to make it.”

Harry obligingly takes another swallow of tea, but when he’s done, he reaches out and runs his fingers over the bruise on Merlin's hand. He doesn’t ask what happened. “There’s always the possibility that you will get hit by a car tomorrow and I’ll be the one left standing, you know.”

“I know.” Merlin says quietly, and puts his hand over Harry’s. “We need to make the most of it while we can.”

“You’ll stay, then?” There’s something vulnerable in his eyes when he asks, something Merlin’s rarely seen before.

“Of course I’ll stay.” Merlin knows he’s smiling now. “Someone needs to make sure you take your pain meds.” And he thinks it is worth the stress and pain of earlier to see Harry laugh for the first time in a long time. 


End file.
